Monday, July 29, 2013

'Finding Home' or 'It Was There All Along'

Been a bit since my last update, and in keeping with the norm, lots has happened. Change, as they say, is inevitable.

First off, I sold my entire camera kit. The whole thing. But I don't want to get into that now, so stay tuned for a brief explanation of why at a later date.

The focus of this particular post is my recent pilgrimage to my place of birth - Yarmouth NS. I've been sitting on this update since I got back (nearly a month now), because I wasn't really sure what I wanted to say (or how to say it). I'm still not so sure, but fuck it.


  I See the Light(house) by Instant Kamera on 500px.com
I See the Light(house) by Instant Kamera


The last time I wrote about "going home", it was precisely that. Until recently, I believed that home was the place you were born and raised. Obviously, it's hard not to become attached after 20+ years; friends and family remain, and even those that left find it hard to stay away (thank-you social media for telling me everyone's business).

First off, for the record, this was a great vacation. Seeing old friends, new babies, and family members I haven't seen in ages was fun. Those friends I didn't see were SORELY missed. I'm happy to say that Arbor was well socialized and seemed to enjoy every new encounter. Karley made a new friend in the B&B proprietor - a fellow quilter and thrifty shopper after her own heart.
But there are two sides to every coin. Throughout the duration of the trip I couldn't help but feel something was missing. I had the tell-tale signs of homesickness. But how could that be?


Headless Watcher by Instant Kamera on 500px.com
Headless Watcher by Instant Kamera

Wasn't I, in fact, HOME??

Leading up to this trip, I was pretty excited. It had always been a bit of a dream that we might someday move back, and we'd often talked about a summer home in NS. Since I only get down every so often, this was supposed to be a home-coming in every way. So what changed?

Well, it's not you, Yarmouth, it's me.

Obviously, there has been some change about town that threw me off. Staples of my youth are closing/moving/falling apart/being torn down. It's probably not as noticeable when you see this progress on a daily basis, but for me it was a bit of a shock. Perhaps though, this is just what it's like to get older; everything around you changes and all you can think is "When I was younger...".

That doesn't explain all of the odd feelings, though. Yes, Y-town has seen better days, but then again, it's never been {insert employment-and-event-filled utopian metropolis here}, so that really doesn't bother me. Some time after my trip I found myself commenting on a FB post about the economic situation in NS. At the time, I said:

"Yarmouth has changed AND stayed the same, both to the detriment of the town."


  Trapped, NS. by Instant Kamera on 500px.com
  Trapped, NS. by Instant Kamera


But that's not entirely true. What is missing from that equation is personal growth, which can be hard to quantify and marches onward, often unnoticed. However, every once in a while you have events which throw progress into stark relief. Clearly, I was seeing the curtain pulled back, and it was startling. In the aforementioned discussion, I also remarked:

"It's easy to romanticize the place where you grew up, and it's also easy to feel like you are betraying it when you leave." 


  tasty... by Instant Kamera on 500px.com
  tasty... by Instant Kamera


And I believe that 100%. It explains why I had trouble recognizing my feelings and why I still don't want to admit that I have moved on (and am quite happy). Nostalgia is a beautiful sickness, but it often conflicts with reality.

Sun sets on Arcadia School by Instant Kamera on 500px.com
Sun sets on Arcadia School by Instant Kamera


  No Visitors by Instant Kamera on 500px.com
No Visitors by Instant Kamera

On the drive home, I really tried to make sense of all these new thoughts and feelings. I looked through the images on my camera and realized that, for the most part, they embodied a more depressing and grim view of the town than I thought I was capturing at the time. Initially, this upset me more, but now I know it was all part of the process of letting go.

Were there things in Yarmouth I might have seen for the last time? Possibly.

Will I ever live there again? Not likely, but I won't say 'never'.

Meanwhile, there's something reassuring about facing my future with a clear picture of the past in my back pocket. With the car parked in our driveway after 5000km, 4 states, and 4 provinces, I'm sure of one thing:

I am home.

  Sun sets on Cook's by Instant Kamera on 500px.com
  Sun sets on Cook's by Instant Kamera

 ***All images are my own. If you use 500px, feel free to follow the links, 'vote' on the images, or follow me.***